Springtime

Daffodils rise and life begins anew,

Spring time, this time

Is full of sunshine rather than sorrow.

That will be left behind, to pick up again

Tomorrow.

springtime

 

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Fickle Fires

Fickle Fires

On my mantle piece, lie
Candles which burn slowly
Flickering throughout the eve’
As the crescent moon hovers through the window,
Nearly crashing on my sill .

Head pokes out for a deep breath of air,
Sucking in a vortex of night time life.
Dizzying swirls which seems stiller than the day,
As circles and squares merge into the dark.

But, lets lick our fingers and sizzle out the flame,
Travel to the sun and stroke its raucous mane.
In an attempt to tame both ourselves and the Earth.

Blackened hands having been burnt to the crisp
As we look over the horizon now,
Only to tumble down into the abyss of light.
Jump.

sun